Hollenbeck
by ManateeMama
Summary: This story recounts Brenda's and Fritz's earliest meeting - at CIA training. Since this is my second story I would really appreciate your reviews and helpful hints. Thanks in advance.


Newlyweds Brenda and Fritz settled into their seats for their flight to Italy. After the flight attendant advised them of the emergency exits and the location of their oxygen masks, they both lowered their seat backs. Brenda had never flown first class before and had objected when Fritz insisted that they pay the extra money for the transatlantic flight. But she had to admit that this was much more enjoyable than being crammed into the coach section for almost 9 hours. "I guess it's ok to occasionally lose an argument," she smiled to herself.

Brenda settled back, moved closer to Fritz and put her head on his shoulder, looked at her new wedding ring and turned it around her finger remembering the lovely private ceremony on the hotel suite's balcony overlooking the ocean. Fritz turned to her and asked "What's the matter? Are you having buyer's remorse?"

Brenda chuckled, "No. Are you? Because if you are, you can just forget it. No exchanges and no refunds."

"So far, so good," Fritz smiled. "I really enjoyed meeting your brothers and their families. You come from good people."

"They loved you. Clay, Jr. told me that he never thought I'd ever snag such a great guy and he wanted to know if you really knew what you were gettin' into."

"Did you tell him that we've been living together for almost three years?"

"Are you kiddin'? No way. He would not appreciate hearin' that his baby sister is a moral degenerate. In some ways he's worse than Daddy."

Fritz grinned. "I wondered if I might need you to protect me."

Brenda chuckled at the thought of Fritz cowering behind her while she defended his honor against her big, badass oldest brother.

As their flight gained altitude they grew silent watching the earth slip away beneath the clouds. Brenda saw Fritz's expression turn serious. She studied him for a moment and then whispered "A penny for your thoughts."

Fritz looked at his new wife, smiled, and said "I was just thinking how strange life can be."

"What do you mean?"

"In all of life's twists and turns, sometimes it turns back on itself."

This had Brenda's attention and she continued to look at Fritz with a quizzical expression.

Talking softly so he wouldn't be overheard, "I was just thinking about the first time we met. That first day of Initial Training. I remember walking into our group and seeing you seated across the table from me. No one could ever have made me believe that here we would be, years later, married."

"Did I impress you that much that you remembered me right from the get-go?"

"Well, you impressed me, all right. When I saw you there my heart sank."

Brenda was both intrigued and slightly offended. "Why? I knew the rest of the guys didn't want me, but why didn't you?" she demanded, rising up on one elbow.

"Because, there you were. Tiny, with long blonde hair, and looking like you were all of fifteen. And with a southern accent, yet. I just knew we wouldn't win and I really wanted to be on the winning team."

"Well, you were right. We didn't win," Brenda replied.

"But we didn't lose because of you."

"I didn't do so well in the physical exercises."

"Maybe not, but you passed your waterboarding test on the first try. I think you were the only one, weren't you?" Fritz asked.

"No. Bud also passed it the first time around and I think Glenn Guthrie did too."

"Well, you sure impressed the hell out of me when you did. It took me three tries."

"That was the worst thing that has ever happened to me. I have never experienced anythin' so painful or horrifyin'. I was determined to either pass it or die tryin'. I just knew there was no way I was ever goin' to do it again. And I certainly didn't want the rest of the team to think they'd been right about me." Brenda looked at Fritz and said, "The fact that you actually came back to take it twice more impressed the hell out of me too. That was incredibly brave. I couldn't have done it."

Fritz gave an ironic laugh. "That's the first time I've ever heard double failure described as bravery."

"Like I said. I couldn't have done it even once more. But you did it twice more. I don't know how you had the strength to go through it over and over again."

"It definitely was not my favorite memory," conceded Fritz. "But I didn't want to fail so I stuck it out. I'm not sure that I would today. Thank God I never had to deal with anything like that in the field."

"I didn't, either. But then I didn't have as much field service as you did."

"You started out in languages, didn't you?"

"Yeah, I was in the field first, then in languages for a while. Before I transferred to investigations."

After a few more minutes, conversation drifted off and Brenda lay back in her seat, the tide of memories washing over her...

* * *

Brenda sat in the auditorium looking around. Of the approximately one hundred people recruited by the Company, she counted only eight women, including herself. She turned her attention to the man who had stepped up to the podium and was beginning to speak. She recognized him as Andrew Schmidt, the man who had come to Georgetown University specifically to recruit her for the CIA. She had never figured out just how he knew about her in the first place and he had refused to tell her.

"You will be divided into teams of ten recruits each for the duration of this training. Each team will choose a spokesperson and also someone who will moderate the discussions and delegate assignments for each of the tasks. Once you have designated your spokesperson and moderator, your first team assignment will be given to you. Your team assignments and classroom numbers are posted on the bulletin board in the hallway. Please go to your assigned rooms now."

Brenda waited for the first wave of recruits clustered around the list to find their names, move out, and allow the next wave to fill in the area around the bulletin board. She searched the list for her name and found that it had been crossed out and "No cunts allowed" had been scrawled beside it. "Lovely," she thought. "This is not gonna be pretty." She sighed, "Well, it's not the first time I've had to deal with Neanderthals. They've got an attitude adjustment comin'."

Brenda found her team's room. It was moderately sized with a large table and ten chairs at one end. An eleventh chair sat near the door. At the far end was a dry erase board, a projector and a screen. She also noted a clock and a video camera mounted on the wall opposite each other and wondered if their exercises would be timed. She took a seat as nine men also took theirs. Just as she expected, she found herself awash in a sea of testosterone. One thick-necked, clean cut man who appeared to be in his middle thirties claimed one of the seats at the end of the table and, before anyone else could say anything, suggested that they all go around the table, introduce themselves and tell how they decided to work for the Company.

Four described their military service as an avenue to the CIA. Two described job centers which featured government service, and three told of law enforcement experience. When it was Brenda's turn she recounted her Georgetown University criminal justice degree and then being recruited by Mr. Schmidt right out of college. She heard someone to the right sneer the words "Baby Bitch" but when she turned to find the source, they were all examining the table's wood grain.

After introductions, one of the men volunteered to be the spokesperson and everyone readily agreed. The man who earlier had seated himself at the head of the table, a former Navy Seal named Bud Zimmerman, volunteered to be the group moderator. Again, everyone agreed. Brenda felt that most of them seemed to be mentally closing ranks, trying to exclude her from the group. "Well, maybe they don't want me here," she thought, "but I'm here to stay and they'll just have to get used to me."

By this time, a woman who had slipped quietly into the room and had listened to the introductions and the job selections rose from the chair near the door and handed Bud a manilla envelope and told everyone that they were to watch a film before they opened the envelope. She turned on the projector and turned off the lights. The group watched a film of six separate interviews of men concerning a secret transfer of a large number of weapons. Each told a different story. Brenda thought each suspect had things which made her both want to believe his story and things which made her doubt his story. She noticed some of the others taking notes so she did the same even though she felt her memory would suffice.

After the film Bud opened the envelope. They were to decide which suspect was most likely the man responsible for the illegal arms transfer, and list their reasons for their choice. They had to reach a consensus and there was only one correct answer. They would have one hour to complete the exercise before returning to the auditorium.

Bud began their deliberations by briefly summarizing each man's statements. Then he asked for a show of hands on who they thought was the correct suspect. Everyone but Brenda raised his hand, suspecting the Venezuelan, Emilio Quintero. The next name was mentioned with no one responding. When Bud named Richard Hollenbeck, Brenda's lone hand went up. Bud asked her in a slightly patronizing tone why she felt Hollenbeck was the correct choice. She began to enumerate her reasons but he interrupted her saying that he thought the group should vote. Fritz Howard, the man across the table, suggested that since she appeared to have good reasons for her choice, the group should listen to her before voting. Bud, however, pointed out that they had only a few minutes remaining so they were going to vote. There were nine votes for Quintero and one vote for Hollenbeck. As they started to leave the room for their large group follow-up, Brenda noticed a red light on the camera turn off. No one spoke to her as they left the room. Brenda sighed and sat with her team, even if they obviously didn't want her with them.

When the groups were reassembled in the auditorium, Mr. Schmidt asked each group to name the person they'd selected. Every group identified Quintero. Mr. Schmidt then asked if anyone in the auditorium had considered any of the other candidates and went through the names. A smattering of hands were raised for each candidate named. When he finally named Hollenbeck, a few hands were raised but none of them was Brenda's. Mr. Schmidt said "Hollenbeck was the correct answer and he gave some of the same reasons Brenda had attempted to give.

After the large group session, they broke for lunch. Brenda found two other women and they ate together and compared notes on their first experiences with the CIA. All three commiserated on being treated as inferiors by the men. As she was picking up the remains of her sandwich, her Ho Ho wrapper and Diet Coke can, Fritz Howard walked past her and nodded hello. "Hey, thank you for stickin' up for me this morning," Brenda said.

"I thought your ideas deserved attention. Maybe if we'd heard them all, we'd have voted differently."

"Oh, I doubt that. Everyone seemed pretty settled in their choice. And you didn't vote for my idea, either."

"No. I really did think it was Quintero, too."

"But you were willin' to at least listen to me, and thank you for that," she smiled.

Fritz smiled back. "I think there might be some more at the table who will be willing to listen from now on."

"We'll see. I suspect that the Good Ole Boy's Club is gonna be a hard nut to crack."

"Well, keep trying." And with that, Fritz walked out of the cafeteria.

As Brenda was leaving, her cell phone buzzed. It was Andrew Schmidt asking her to come to his office. "What have I done now?" she wondered. She honestly couldn't think of a thing. But she was always either doing something others didn't like or not doing something people wanted her to do. "It's bound to be one thing or the other," she sighed as she made her way up the stairs to Mr. Schmidt's office. She knocked on the door, heard "Come in" and entered.

Mr. Schmidt was seated at his desk with an open folder in front of him. She recognized her photograph upside down clipped to the inside of the folder. Her heart started pounding and her mouth felt dry. "Oh, shit! I'm already in trouble and the day isn't half over yet," she thought.

Without looking up, Mr. Schmidt said "Have a seat, " and gestured to the chair in front of his desk. When Brenda was seated he looked up with a questioning look on his face and asked "Why didn't you raise your hand when I asked if anyone considered Hollenbeck?"

"Uh, I... uh," Brenda stammered, remembering the red light on the video camera.

"You surprise me. When I recruited you I thought you had the courage of your convictions and that you weren't easily intimidated."

"I didn't feel intimidated, sir. I simply felt that nothin' would be accomplished by raisin' my hand."

Mr. Schmidt said nothing so she continued. "Everyone on my team knows I thought that Hollenbeck was the right choice. I thought if I raised my hand I would just be pointin' out to every person in that auditorium that I was right and every other member of my team was wrong. And what good would that do? I'd be resented even more and it would be harder for our team to work together. It's enough that they will now listen to my ideas and not dismiss me just because I'm a woman, sir."

Andrew Schmidt was impressed. After Brenda left his office he picked up a pen and wrote in her file, "This young woman is intuitive and smart. She's someone to watch."

Fritz was partially correct. Through the rest of their training, the men were no longer openly dismissive or patronizing. They listened to her ideas and actually incorporated several of them into their execution of their training exercises. And they openly admired the fact that she was the only woman to pass the waterboarding on the first try. Very few men accomplished that. But she felt that she was still viewed by the majority as "Baby Bitch" and, as such, a potential liability.

After training, Brenda and Fritz were assigned different duties and they had no contact with each other for the next few years until one day they found themselves, once again, seated across the table from each other. An FBI recruiter was extolling the advantages of transferring to the Bureau. After the recruitment speech, Fritz picked up several brochures from the table, but Brenda did not. He turned to her and said "Let me buy you a drink and we can catch up and rehash old times."

"Thanks. I'd like that," she replied. When they were seated in the bar across the street and Fritz had ordered a glass of red wine for her and a scotch on the rocks for himself Brenda said "I see you picked up their literature. Are you thinkin' of leavin' Spookville?"

"I might. I'm thinking about getting married and being away from Cindy for a long stretch of time isn't working out too well. This way I'd be home more and I could probably tell her most of what I'm doing instead of having to either lie or say nothing at all. How about you? I noticed you didn't pick up anything for yourself."

"No. My life is pretty settled at the moment. I gave up field work awhile ago and have been studyin' Russian and Czech. I have been doin' translations for about seven months. Pretty routine stuff. But now I think I might like to go into interrogations. My supervisor thinks I might do well in that area and it would sure beat just starin' at transcripts all day long."

"Well, whatever you decide to do, I'm sure you'll do well. You're smart and resourceful. I'm surprised you're not doing field work. You'd make a great field agent."

Brenda thanked him for the compliment and said "I think I did all right too. And, I really enjoyed it. But it turns out," she said with more than a little disgust in her voice, "they wanted me to be a honey pot and I totally refuse to sleep with someone just to get information." She spat out the words and then added sardonically, "And, besides. The men they wanted me to sleep with couldn't afford me. I don't come cheap."

Fritz chuckled and said "I'm sure you don't. God. I hope you never meet my girlfriend."

Brenda laughed, noticed the clock on the wall and said "Fritz, it's been great seein' you again. I hope everythin' works out with you and... Elaine, is it?"

"No," Fritz smiled. "It's Cindy. Thanks. I've got to get back to work too. Take care of yourself and good luck with interrogations. I hope everything works out for you too. You'd be terrific."

"Thanks." And after a friendly goodbye hug Brenda returned to her boring transcripts, determined to pursue the interrogation training.

* * *

Brenda smiled and looked at Fritz. His eyes were closed and he looked happy and relaxed. She snuggled up next to him intertwining her fingers with his. Looking at both of their rings, she sighed, and closed her eyes. For the first time in her life that she could remember she was completely and utterly happy. Sometimes life's twists and turns create a beautiful thing.


End file.
